*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1693642-A-Fable
by joffa
Rated: E · Short Story · Folklore · #1693642
Tribal elder sits around the camp fire telling a fable to the new generation
Not so long ago, there was a young boy who was as happy and as carefree as a lamb in spring. His heart was filled with joy, contentment and kindness. He would skip through the forest and marvel at the wondrous gifts that nature offered. The smell of freshly cut grass, the song of the bird on wing, the rustle of autumn leaves beneath his feet and the warmth of the evening sun caressing his back were just a few of the treasures that filled every day of his life. The Good Lord looked down upon him and was happy, for this was how he intended things to be.

Each day that passed the young boy grew in joy and awe with the world around him. His radiance was so great that it came to the attention of the Evil Lord. Seeing how much pleasure this young boy brought to the Good Lord angered the Evil Lord. So, he set about his task to destroy the young boy’s carefree joy. As powerful as the he was, he was no competition for the awesome power of the Good Lord. He knew any direct conflict would be fatal. With this in mind he held conference with his council to devise a plan of a stealthy and gradual demise of the young boy’s jubilance. They believed their plan was so cunning that not only would the Good Lord fail to notice their attack, but the young boy’s slow deterioration would be mirrored in the Good Lord himself. The Evil Lord would be able to overpower the Good Lord and banish him from his own kingdom.

As time passed the young boy grew into a man, ill-fortune had become his only companion. He found himself surrounded by the concrete of the claustrophobic city. The smell of the freshly cut grass replaced by the smell of diesel fumes and discarded garbage. The song of the bird on wing had been replaced by the sound of police sirens and vagabonds begging for cash. The rustle of autumn leaves beneath his feet was replaced by broken glass and faeces of rabid dogs. The evening sun had set. The man sat alone in his room, sad and miserable. The Good Lord saw this and was depressed. He spent his days watching the man from above and crying. The city, covered in heavy black clouds was slowly drowning in the deluge of the Good Lord’s tears. The Evil Lord watched with glee and danced to a merry tune as the man and the Good Lord destroyed each other, as their miseries intermingled in a ceaseless ever decreasing circle.

Time moved slowly. The man felt much older than his years. His belly was round, his hair had turned grey and his body was broken and wracked with pain. His face now bore the scars and wrinkles of life’s relentless onslaught and his spirit was dishevelled, eroded away by the perpetual unforgiving hand of ill-fate.

An aide approached the Good Lord and said, ‘Master. What has happened to you? You sit here day after day weeping. You are destroying your most beloved creation. You are raising the rivers with your tears and flooding the lands. The thick black clouds of your anguish are blotting out the sun’s life giving rays and the whole world has plunged into darkness.’

The Good Lord sat in silence for a moment, and then turned to the aide. ‘What did you say?’ He mumbled. The aide began again but the Good Lord interrupted him, this time with more authority, ‘No, no, just the last bit.’

‘I said the world has plunged into darkness, My Lord.’ Said the aide hesitantly.

‘Of course it has.’ Whispered the Good Lord and jumped to his feet. ‘Of course it has!’ This time he yelled out loud. His eyes had been opened to the Evil Lord’s cunning plan and he knew immediately what he had to do. He summoned his most beautiful angel, made her comfortable and then played out the whole of the man’s life before her eyes. ‘Now go!’ Said the Good Lord. ‘Go and remind our friend of the wonders of this world. Go, and make him feel as carefree as when he was as a child. Go, my most beautiful angel, go.’

Sitting in his dark gloomy room, the man felt a sudden urge to escape the city and decided on a short vacation. He packed his bags, drove to the coast and booked into a cheap hotel. He slept well that night and when the morning broke he took a quick shower, dressed and headed to the restaurant for breakfast. The restaurant was very busy, but eventually a waiter led him to a table. It was a table for two in the bay window, overlooking the ocean. After a short while the waiter returned with a young lady. ‘I’m very sorry to disturb sir,’ the waiter said, ‘would you mind if I seat this young lady here with you? The restaurant is rather busy and I am concerned that I will not seat all of our guests before the restaurant closes.’

‘No. That’s fine,’ answered the man. ‘Please, sit down.’ He gestured towards the vacant seat.

The man and the young girl began to talk. He was surprised by how much they had in common. They lived in the same city, they liked the same music, they shared the same interests and they had even ordered the same breakfast. They finished their food and continued talking for a while, until the waiter returned and asked them, very apologetically, if they could vacate the table as he was still trying to get the other guests seated. They stood to leave. ‘Well, it was very nice to meet you.’ The young lady said.

‘Likewise.’ The man replied. ‘Look, we live in the same city. If ever you’re at a loose end and want to meet up for a coffee or a chat I’d be more than happy to come and meet you somewhere.’ He handed her a piece of paper with his phone number on it.

‘I might just do that.’ She said and then turned and left.

The man realised that he had a small smile on his face. It had been a long time since he last felt his mouth curl like that. And then, for the first time in years, he noticed that the sun was shining.

The man’s vacation soon came to an end and he returned to his dank gloomy room. A few days passed before the young lady called, but to his surprise she did call him, and asked if he would like to meet with her. The man agreed, they met and they became good friends. They met quite regularly and after a short time the man began to feel the oppressive gloom begin to lift from his life. It was not long before he felt like a young boy again. Always, in the company of this young lady, his senses would tune in to the wonders around him. When they were together all the pollution and corruption of the world seemed to vanish and they were surrounded by comfort and solace. The man’s joy had returned to him. One night, when the man was in a deep sleep, the Good Lord implanted a vision into the man’s dreams. He revealed The Evil Lord’s plan and how he had plotted to destroy the man and steal his happiness. When he woke the man felt enlightened, he was not angry or bitter, but he was strengthened and he built defences so strong that the Evil Lord would never be able to attack him again.

The Evil Lord was aware of this vision that the Good Lord had sent to the man and he knew he would not be able to attack or even to threaten the man again, not directly anyway.

The Evil Lord began to drive himself insane trying to find another way to persecute the man. The sun high and hot in the sky brought him great irritation; he believed the Good Lord was mocking him. This made him even more determined to destroy the man. He sent for his most trusted archer and handed him an arrow. ‘Archer! I have had this arrow stolen from Cupid, himself. I want you to bide your time and when you see the man with the young lady I want you to fire this arrow straight into his heart.’

‘Sire! If this is truly Cupid’s arrow it will make him fall in love with her.’ the archer replied.

‘You see me as a fool, archer?’

‘No sire. But are you sure you want this man to fall in love with the angel? Surely not my Lord?’

‘Archer, my most trusted friend, and a friend you truly are. I have barbed the tip of this arrow. Once this arrow is embedded deep into his heart it can never be removed. It will rip a hole in his heart so jagged that not even the Good Lord himself will be able to save him. He will die a slow painful death. As his lifeblood seeps continually into the gutter, his soul will suffer immeasurable pain of love lost. He must live a life without his angel. The Good Lord will sink into a despair so deep that not even light could escape, due to his failure in saving the man he loves the most.’

‘Another cunning plan, sire, but once the man has been struck by Cupid’s arrow he will never want to pull from his chest.’

‘Mock me no more! Now go and puncture his heart!’

There was not a single cloud in the sky and the evening sun was giving a warm massage to the man’s back and shoulders. Swallows and swifts swooped and whooped over the river which glistened in the golden rays below. The man clasped the young girls hand as they peered over the side of the bridge, watching the salmon and the trout as they jumped and played and frolicked in the warm soothing water. The man had not been this happy since he was a child, his heart was full of joy, contentment and kindness. His angel made him whole again and the pain in his broken body vanished whenever she was there by his side. They hugged each other and began to walk across the bridge, not a care in the world between them.

Unknown to the happy couple, the archer lay in silence, waiting at the end of the bridge, hidden behind a large bush of lavender. As the pair approached the far bank of the river, the archer took careful aim and released the bowstring. The arrow flew swift and true and thumped into the man’s heart. He jolted at the impact and then, staggering backwards clutched at his chest.

‘Are you ok?’ The young lady asked, with a look of concern on her face.

‘Yes. I think so,’ the man replied, ‘Yeah, I’m fine’ He was a little shocked, but found himself gazing deeply into her beautiful brown eyes. ‘I love you.’ He whispered, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ He began to sing the words. He took her in his arms and planted a long passionate kiss on to her lips. ‘I want to hold you and never let go. You are wonderful. You are perfect. You are my angel!’ He sang and he danced all the way home.

Now, that night as the man was sleeping, the Evil Lord sent a vision to corrupt the man dreams. He revealed the young lady and a real angel, not as an Earth angel that the man believed she was. He showed the man his evil plan and the arrow entering his heart. He showed the man the consequences of removing the arrow. But, worst of all he made the man believe that this was all the work of the Good Lord. The man woke in an instant, dripping in a cold sweat.

The Evil Lord set about his work. Not to destroy the man, he knew he could not do that. He could not break through the man’s defences. Instead he would direct all of his depraved venom towards the angel. Failure would follow her every move, confusion would invade her every thought and self-doubt would eat away at her soul and spirit. Neither the Good Lord nor the man realised what was happening to the angel. How could they? The angel herself had no idea what was happening to her.

The man began to see less and less of his angel. The Evil Lord intensified his destruction of the angel. She became more and more confused, she started to fall into a world of fog and mistrust until she could no longer even trust herself. She became so elusive that eventually the man lost all contact with his angel. Every night he would sit and cry for his angel, worried about her safety, her state of mind, her strength and her courage. Every night he would pray that she would contact him, if only to say she was safe.

The man’s pain had begun and it was time for the Evil Lord to exact his revenge on his nemesis. As the man slept the Evil Lord slipped into his room and woke him. He showed him how much his angel was suffering, he let him feel her pain and finally he let him experience her mental anguish. The man’s angel was suffering a slow and hideous torture and he was helpless to save her.

‘But you can save her.’ The Evil Lord whispered in his ear, ‘Pull the arrow from your heart and I will release her.’

The man wept. He knew the full consequences of removing the arrow, but he knew that the Evil Lord would honour the deal. The man turned to answer the Evil Lord but as suddenly as he had appeared, he had gone.

The man’s love for the angel was absolute. To free his love he must die. He must die a slow and unimaginably painful death. Alone in his dark gloomy room, entombed by concrete, surrounded by pollution and corruption, overwhelmed by grief and sorrow, the man sank to his knees, clasped the arrow with both hands and pulled it from his chest. As his ribcage released the arrow from his chest he slumped to the floor, sad, alone and dying. He whispered a last goodbye to his angel, his fate was sealed, but his angel was free from her torment.
© Copyright 2010 joffa (joffaslimbo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1693642-A-Fable